


Lion Commander

by EmJ93



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-28
Updated: 2016-06-28
Packaged: 2018-07-18 20:33:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7329727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmJ93/pseuds/EmJ93
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trevelyan's been drinking, and decides to visit her Commander. Literal fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lion Commander

“Your mane is soooo fluffy!” Greta giggled, dragging out the word ‘so’ longer than seemed necessary, and looking at her commander with an expression of pure wonder, as though she’d never seen him in his armor before. She reached out to run a hand through the fur of his mantle, wide grin on her face as she did so. She gasped excitedly, adding in an exaggerated stage whisper: “You’re like a fluffy lion!”

Cullen smirked, despite himself. He still had a mountain of paperwork on his desk that needed dealing with, but he had to admit that a giggling Inquisitor was a welcome break. “Have you been drinking, love?”

The question didn’t really need to be answered, he mused, as he looked over her flushed cheeks, loose hair, and beaming face as she stood in the doorway of his office. It was well into the night, and when they’d last spoken hours before she’d been heading to bed. Clearly she’d never made it. She looked up at him, wide eyes sparkling with happiness, and answered regardless. “Just a little.”

“Only a little?” He leaned around her, closing the door to keep back the night’s chill as she wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her head against his shoulder. He turned the lock, then let his hands come to rest around her, holding her affectionately against him. The smell of ale overpowered her usual floral perfume, he noted, as he pressed a kiss against her head.

“Maybe more than a little.” She agreed, squeezing her lover happily, her words slurring ever so slightly. “But Bull insisted. It would’ve been rude not to.”

Cullen chuckled. “Of course. I thought you were going to bed?”

Greta tilted her head, turning her freckled face to look up at him. There was a hint of guilt in her big blue eyes, almost resembling a child about to own up to doing something forbidden. “Dorian asked me to go to to the tavern with him.”

“Then abandoned you to wander the ramparts alone, apparently.”

His disapproval was cut short by gentle kisses trailing up his neck and along his jawline, her guilt apparently instantly forgotten. “I wanted to see my commander.” She found his lips, claiming them with slow, lingering kisses, as she moved her hands up to tangle in his hair. He hummed his approval, before she pulled back with another drunken grin, and corrected: “My _fluffy lion_ commander.”

She fell into another fit of giggles, resting her head against his mantle and then laughing harder when the fur brushed her face.

“Maker’s breath.” He murmured. He had a feeling this was going to be a long night.


End file.
